“Oh, you did not just say that. My scarves have drape for miles!”
“Crocheting is faster and easier than any snooty travesty you stab to death with those needles.”
“Fast and easy. There’s two words you’ve heard a lot over the years. Some things are more enjoyable done slowly–not that you’d ever know.”
“Oh, blow it out your bonnet you two-needle hack. A real yarn thrower doesn’t need two tools to create her craft. All she needs is a hook and her own two hands.”
“Tell that to my slim, perfectly fitted socks and lightweight fitted sweaters you single-stitch derelict. Two needles are better than one.”
“Ladies. Let’s get back to the problem at hand,” I said.
“A crochet hook won’t get you kicked off an airplane. Do you remember what happened to your monogrammed Signature needles in LA?”
Willie blanched a little paler, which I wouldn’t have thought possible with our recent lack of sun. “My babies.” Her voice wobbled and her eyes actually watered. “I can’t believe you brought that up. You monster.”
Chester looked momentarily chagrined, and she stuck out her free hand to pat her sister’s shoulder. “That was a bit below the belt. I apologize.”
“Aircraft quality aluminum, Ches, aircraft.”
“I know dear.”
“Stiletto points and teardrop end caps.”
“There, there.”
“They were hand-crafted. By hand. And monogrammed!”
“Steady now, Will. You know, I think maybe it’s time you replace them with a new pair.”
Willie sniffed. “But the roof needs some patching and that back fence is on its last legs, and you always say I have too many needles already.”
“Oh to hell with the fence. We have enough to deal with the roof and get you an entire new set of Signatures with savings to spare.”
“And circulars?” Willie sniffed, but there was a glint of something in her eyes. Something wily.
“Of course we can—wait. Did you just try to hornswoggle me?”
“What?” Willie’s eyes were comically large. “What are you saying?” She tapped her ear like her hearing aid had just kicked the bucket.
“You did! You tried to play me.” Chester’s face closed in like a shriveled walnut. “Forget the needles. We’re putting in a new fence. All the way around the house! Twice!”
“You wouldn’t.”
“You bet your teardrop end caps I would.”
“Ladies,” I said sternly. “That’s enough. What you do with fencing and monogrammed needles is your business, but your groups are going to be pulled in on disturbing the peace charges if you don’t disassemble and move your gathering to a venue with appropriate capacity.”
“We’re not moving,” Willie said. “We meet here every week at ten o’clock, and we’ve been doing it for six months.”
“Well, we’re meeting here at nine o’clock,” Chester said. “You’ll just have to find somewhere else to go. Bye-bye.”
“There are other meeting options,” Bertie said. And she would know.
“With coffee and pastries?” Willie challenged.
“There’s the Perky Perch. It has a loft you can reserve for a small fee.”
“We can’t,” they chorused.
